


A Weekend Dinner

by kanameyu



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanameyu/pseuds/kanameyu
Summary: After they’ve been dating for a while, Charlie makes dinner for Sam. Very short one-shot.
Relationships: Charlie Cutter/Samuel Drake
Kudos: 4





	A Weekend Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tunacafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunacafe/gifts).



> Enjoy! Here is my cringe, heart-horny Sutter fic.

It amused Sam that he was bigger than Charlie.

Sam sat on the sofa, distractedly looking through documents of a recently-finished job, while Charlie busily prepped for dinner on the kitchen island. Sam kept glancing at Charlie, knowing he’d need the potato peeler soon, and that it was in a place out of reach— Sam had put it there an hour ago. Sam waited patiently for the joke to land.

This had become a recurring prank. Sam would occasionally put daily items just out of Charlie’s reach. Charlie then humored him, reaching for things with curses and with exaggerated difficulty. Charlie did not seem slighted by this prank, however, a man solid onto himself, and this height difference became a friendly bit of competition between them.

By normal measures, Charlie was still a tall man — and stockier than Sam, but Sam was just built bigger. And because Sam always felt Charlie held the upper hand in their relationship— Charlie was more experienced in love, more socially fluid, a more flexible man—this small advantage made him smile, a small victory he kept close.

Charlie looked up from his work and gave him an absent-minded smile, still ignorant of the machinations at work. Though Sam suppressed a knowing smirk, his chest squeezed a little, too. He felt happy to be sitting on the couch, waiting for dinner made by his… _boyfriend_.

It felt a bit embarrassing, really, to be so…. well, _in love_ didn’t seem like the right phrase. To know so much about someone, and have their life permeate yours.

It started with noticing. Charlie’s insistence of drinking tea, his unending love for the soccer team Arsenal (even though they never won, and Manchester seemed to be a better team. Sam kept this thought to himself), and esoteric knowledge that popped up in surprising places. He started to think about these aspects of Charlie, to accomodate for them.

He didn’t know that a relationship could be built on that. You could build a life around accommodating for someone, and that it could become love.

“Where is that bloody potato peeler?” Charlie said to himself, opening several drawers in succession. He gave an accusatory glance to Sam, who suddenly became very engrossed in his reading.

Sam felt him glance in his direction, half grimace, half smiles.

“ _Samuel_ ,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“The potato peeler.”

“What about it?”

Charlie gave him a mock-exasperated glare. He pulled over a chair, spotted the peeler, and pulled it down to the island with him. He waved it around to demonstrate to Sam, and went back to cooking.

“How long til dinner’s ready?” Sam asked.

“There was a small delay, but, uh… soon, love.”

 _Love_. Sam could get used to this life.


End file.
